


TFW You Start To Like Someone You Hate

by RittaPokie



Category: Marvel, spideypool - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Obvious jokes, Smut, less obvious jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 05:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 19,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6106309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RittaPokie/pseuds/RittaPokie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a reason to write my two favorite nerds. Short chapters because this is the first legit fic I've uploaded and I don't wanna burn out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hero To The Ass World

Peter shifts his feet in the grass, pushing and pulling the blades as he moves. His legs are too long to be in this swing. He sighs heavily. This is one thing, _the_ one thing, that he never thought he'd be doing. In fact, it hadn't even occurred to him. But he has $247 in his hoodie pocket that crinkles when he swings and he's waiting on someone he's usually glad doesn't show up. _Deadpool_. [This is a huge risk.] he thinks to himself. [What if he recognizes my voice?]

It's too late to back out, he realizes when he sees the all too familiar red and black silhouette approaching him. Deadpool dusts the seat of the swing off, sits down, kicks his feet out, and speaks "Spidey's not gonna like this."

Peter snorts, "I wasn't planning on telling him."

If Deadpool recognizes him, he doesn't say so. "Oooh, you're going on the naughty list this Christmas, Peter Parker."

"You're Santa? I feel like my childhood's getting ruined all over again." Peter digs his heels into the ground. This was a _bad_ idea. His worst, maybe. "Aren't you curious why you're here?"

Deadpool shrugs, which Peter barely catches because the merc is whooshing past him, swinging hard enough to make the frame creak. "I know why I'm here." He catches himself on the ground with his feet and skids to a stop beside Peter. "To service you." There's a lilt in his voice and Peter imagines the eyebrow waggle he's sure is happening behind the mask.

Peter sighs. "I tried my best, my absolute _best_ not to hire _you_." He scrubs a hand over his face. "Every conversation ended with "Look, kid, my rate's too high for you, but I know someone who-". For someone who's an ass to the hero world, you're a hero to the ass world."

Deadpool giggles. "Ass world. My home planet, where I belong." He pushes back and swings high, "My planet needs me!~~~"

Peter laughs, despite feeling generally awful and not having slept well in weeks. He hates that Deadpool is the most common cause of him-well, Spider-Man, laughing these days. "But before you return to your planet, my life is being threatened and I'd like to deal with that." He says when Deadpool stops next to him again.

"Business, business, business. I see why you and Spidey get along." Deadpool pouts. "How many people are out for you?"

"At least six." Peter replies, "Sitting in cars outside my apartment all day in vans with tinted windows, harassing my landlord for apartment openings, _going through my mail_."

"And you can't get your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man to help with this?" Deadpool says, sounding a bit surprised. "Seems right up his alley, especially since it's you."

"My neighbor, nice old lady who I bought groceries for a bunch of times, called the police about the vans. Yesterday she was shot in her apartment. I don't need Spider-Man, I need you." Peter trains his eyes on his shoes. The ground beneath him is torn up from his fidgeting.

"Ohhh, so you want them to be _not alive_." Deadpool says.

"No, I don't _want_ that. I'm worried that's what it's coming to." He sighs again. It's become how he breathes lately. "And no one followed me here, which is a good indicator that they know exactly what I'm doing."

"You can't go home, then."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that. So, put myself up at a motel, that's-" he calculates in his head and groans. "I'm too broke to have this happening to me."

"You're gonna stay with me until this is over." Deadpool says, and Peter's eyes widen.

"No, no-no. No, _no_. That-that's not a good plan." Peter stammers. It's going to be hard enough keeping his identity secret just hiring Deadpool, but _living_ with him? No way it stays secret.

"It'll be fun~ like a sleepover! You can invite Spidey if you want. The three of us could all sleep in my bed." He trails off, more mumbly, and laughs to himself in a sultry sort of tone that prompts Peter to kick his shin.

Which is a bad move, in retrospect. Peter Parker should be _afraid_ of mercenaries, not acting like he's known the guy for years and knows he's actually a huge dork. Deadpool doesn't act like it's out of the ordinary. "He wouldn't come."

"Right, busy shoving that stick even farther up his ass and not even in a fun way!" He holds out his hand, "You sure you wanna do this?" He asks, more serious than anything he's said the entire time they've been sitting here.

"How much is this going to cost?" Peter asks wearily. He shakes the merc's hand anyway.

"Don't worry about it, we can work something out later." Peter's hand tightens on Deadpool's, half in fear for the first time that night. "Whoa, calm down- Not-not like _that_. Like a credit sort of deal. Bang bang now, pay later-wait, _shit_. We won't have sex in exchange for services." He says carefully.

Peter's face turns beet red and he lets go of the other's hand. "What-um...what now?"

"Well, now I take you somewhere safe, and I go and do what you hired me to do. Then you go home and pretend that I'm solely responsible for the dead people." Deadpool says, "I mean, I guess. I don't know what most people who hire me _do_ after I'm done. Maybe it's more fun than I'm imagining." He shrugs.

"I need to get some things from my place." Peter says.

"Then I gotta come with you."

[ _Fuck._ ]


	2. More Valuable Than Cash

The first thing Peter sees when he opens the door to his apartment is how much of a mess it is. He doesn't apologize because a) he didn't _exactly_ invite Deadpool, b) it's kind of a desperate situation, and c) you can't imagine the merc's place being any better. Second thing he sees – because the universe hates him – is the Spider-Man suit. His heart almost stopped and he's not exactly proud of how quickly the lie tumbles from his lips.

"Someone left something behind, again." he says, sighing like he's exasperated. With himself. In a way he guesses it's not _really_ a lie.

"Is he here?" Deadpool asks, his voice somewhere between excited and nervous.

"No, it's his spare." Peter says, knowing damn well he only has one suit (he can't really afford to have two).

Deadpool picks the mask up and examines it, following Peter to his bedroom. "So, you two are close."

"I guess." Peter says.

"And you've seen his face." Deadpool holds up the mask. "Or is he all sneaky and shows up while you're gone or _sleeping_?"

"Mind if I don't answer?" Peter asks. "I don't need the people after me thinking I know who Spider-Man is. Just because – _if_ I've seen his face doesn't mean I know who he is." Peter shoves some clothes into a bag and accidentally knocks his photo album off a shelf in his closet.

Deadpool grabs it immediately, but _thankfully_ doesn't open it. "OO _OOH_ ~ what's this? Pics of Spidey? You when you were a baby? _Spidey as a baby?_ "

[ _Well_ ] Peter thinks. "It-it's personal." He grabs it out of the merc's hand.

"Naked pics, right? _Nudes_?" He laughs, "I mean, you gotta get bored sometimes and you have that high quality camera just laying around. If I looked like you, _whew_! PlayGirl magazine def _initely_."

Peter's face flushes and he drops the album on his bed. " _None of your business._ " he grumbles. "There... _is_ something in here that might interest you, though. Since you're so hung up on Spider-Man."

" _Naked pics of Spidey?_ " Deadpool asks, excited. He pouts when Peter shakes his head (he's lying, _kind of_ ).

Peter flips through a few pages and pulls a photo out. "This. I, uh. I Think it's when the two of you first met."

Deadpool The photo and stares at it in silence for a few minutes. Peter barely remembers the night they met, but it _clearly_ meant something to the merc. "Don't suppose I could keep this..." He mumbles.

"It's yours." Peter says, and he can see the other light up even _with_ the mask. Peter coughs awkwardly because there's something about the merc's posture that says 'this is way more valuable than cash' and Peter is it ready to deal with what it means that Deadpool does jobs for free for those in need. Or what it means that he never brings it up when Peter, as Spider-Man, gives him a hard time about the merc work.

"Thanks." Deadpool says, and tucks the picture into a Captain America wallet that looks pretty vintage and well cared for. "Got everything you need?"

Peter gives his back a once over. Laptop, camera, phone, chargers for all three, keys, wallet, a few night/day's clothes, and the folder of pictures he really shouldn't keep because they expose his identity. Think of it, you probably shouldn't _bring_ them either, but the consequences of Deadpool knowing who he is are _much_ less severe. _Maybe_. He _hopes_.

He nods and zips the bag. He returns the album to its place in his closet before they leave.


	3. Hard Ass

"So are you and Spidey... _y'know_?" Deadpool asks, thrusting his hips in the air and bouncing the lounge chair he's sitting in. He laughs when Peter turns red.

Peter starts to automatically say 'no', but that's not really _true_. And if he had knocked off a _different_ box in his closet, Deadpool would (kind of) _know_ that.

"Taking a little long to answer, Petey." Deadpool says smugly.

"N- _no_. We're _not_." Peter splutters finally; too little too late, really. Deadpool's mask stretches with his grin, but he doesn't push the joke further. He becomes enthralled with whatever is going on on his laptop and Peter doesn't _dare_ ask what that is. Could be cat videos, could be hard-core porn. He just can't know.

Peter is actually surprised at how homey Deadpool's apartment is. No personal photos, but some framed print outs of weird stock images. Other than those (the man licking a walkie-talkie is a little disturbing) and the massive amount of weapons, the place is all warm colors and soft pillows. He settles further into what is maybe the comfiest couch he's ever been on and opens and email to his boss. [ _How am I going to get out of work._ ]

'A group of people are trying to kill me'  
Backspace.  
'Fell down a flight of stairs'  
Backspace.  
'I'm getting married'  
Backspace.  
'Gave birth to a mini hulk'

Deadpool snorts and bursts into a fit of giggles, falling back from where he was leaning in and snooping. Peter hadn't even _noticed_. So much for Spidey senses. "It's not like he can fire you." Deadpool says when he calms down. "Where else is he gonna get pictures of Spider-Man?"

"Spidey's other friends?" Peter asks.

Deadpool scoffs, "That nerd has friends?" It stings, mostly because it's a bit true… "I mean. There's you, and me – kind of. _He_ says we're not, but we team up a lot and save each other. Very romantic. I think he's just in denial about how he feels about me!"

Peter's brows knit together, "He's kind of…" he looks down at his lap, thinking about how accommodating the merc has been, "I don't know – harsh, about you."

"Don't I _know_ it." Deadpool says. "The guys my idol and he's like, _zero_ fun. Such a buzzkill."

"But you're so eager to see his baby pictures." Peter muses.

"Wha? Oh, yeah." the merc reclines back onto the couch, his head in Peter's lap. "He's a hard ass but he's my pal. Love 'im, salt of the earth, all that junk. _Speaking_ of hard asses, not only _is_ Spidey one, he also _has_ one! You could bounce quarters off of it and – let me tell you – I have _tried_. He keeps dodging! _Zero fun!_ "

"Having quarters hit your ass isn't a nice experience." Peter says (Deadpool isn't the only one who does it, sadly). "It sort of hurts."

"So, should I just– grab it?" Deadpool asks, not questioning Peter's admission of having quarters thrown at him.

" _No_ , that's _not_ what I said!" Peter shakes his head frantically.

"Not even a gentle squeeze?" Deadpool asks and Peter shakes his head again, "A friendly slap?"

" _No!_ " Peter covers his face with his hands, "No ass touching of _any kind_!"

"Then I'm back to square one!" The merc says, "Someone has got to do _something_! That ass just isn't fair to the rest of the world."

"I'm going to regret asking and I know it, but what do you mean by that?" Peter asks, a grimace setting into his features.

" _Well!_ It's so _perfect_. Round and pert and it just looks so firm and squeezable. _Spankable_." Deadpool says dreamily. "The fun that ass and I could have–"

" _Please_ , please _stop talking_." Peter's face is redder than it has ever been in his entire life and if anymore blood rushes to his head, he's worried he might faint from embarrassment. [Fun?] his mind supplies, helpful as always, [Does he _mean_?]. Peter presses the heels of his palms to his eyes because yes, thats exactly what the merc means, and _that_ train of thought isn't going any _where_ good.

"Are you _jealous_?" Deadpool asks, poking him in the ribs.

" _No_. I'm _mortified_. F–for him. I mean–" Peter splutters.

"I wouldn't worry, Petey. Spider-Man has as much interest in me as he does in having a good time, which is _zero_." Deadpool sighs.

"Sounds like you have a crush." Peter says. [ _Why!??!?_ ] he thinks, [Why do I _do_ this to myself?!]

"Maybe I do, but that's not news." the merc shrugs. "Unrequited feelings are really not as romantic as everyone says– did I say _feelings_!? Whoa, that's not what you wanna tell the person who hires you to hurt some baddies, _especially_ if they're the friend of your– _you know_."

Peter gapes at him for a moment and _really_ regrets bringing the topic up. " _Uh._ I–"

"If you could do me a solid and _not mention_ it to him – though I'm sure he knows – I'd _really_ appreciate it," the merc has leaned much farther away from Peter in the couch, sort of drawing into himself. "Do you play video games?" Deadpool asks, sounding way less confident than he has since they 'met'.

"Yeah, why?" Peter's voice is _just a bit_ strained. He didn't have a right to any of the conversation they just had. The merc wouldn't have been so open if he _knew_ and Peter suddenly feels like the biggest jerk on the whole planet.

" _Topic change_ , what else?" Deadpool laughs and gets up to rummage through game and movie cases on a shelf next to his TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was probably Human Torch if anyone's wondering who threw quarters at his ass


	4. Rules

"I wasn't going to ask because I assume you know what you're doing, but you haven't actually _done anything_ since we've been here." Peter says over a loading screen on Fallout 4, the game they've been taking turns playing. "I'm starting to wonder if you kidnapped me to interrogate me about Spider-Man."

"Anyone ever tell you you're paranoid?" Deadpool asks. "While that's a _great_ plan, no. I'm waiting for when those baddies sitting on your apartment will break in. Probably tomorrow night, so you're stuck here until then."

"Okay...so if nothing is happening tonight, why wear the suit?" Which isn't fair, because Peter isn't going to reveal himself. Why should Deadpool?

"You tryin' to get me naked? I'm _shocked_ , Petey, _really!_ " the merc says after a moment of staring blankly at the screen. " _Well_ , I'll have you know that I don't put out on the first date and you didn't even buy me dinner!"

Peter has seen scars; of _course_ the merc has them, reckless as he is. Whenever the suit gets ripped, he sees. There are clearly scars underneath all the leather and spandex, but they can't be _that_ bad, right?

"You don't wanna see, take my word for it, Petey-pie." Deadpool says.

Well, _now_ he's curious. But he can't ask unless he spills the beans about his alter ego. It wouldn't be fair. "Whatever you say." He says, "I'm looking forward to seeing you try to eat with the mask on. Speaking of, I'm starving."

 

" _Come on_." Peter says in whine, pushing his Jerk of the Year title, "Your stomach is growling so loud your neighbors probably hear it. Just _take it off_." He's been moving a taco back and forth in the merc's field of vision for at least two minutes and he _knows_ the other is going to crack. Deadpool speaks almost as fondly of tacos as he does of Spider-Man's ass.

Something like a growl comes out of his mouth and he snatches the aforementioned taco out of Peter's hand. "Okay, _fine_ , but you asked for it." He pushes the mask up to his nose and shoves almost a whole taco into his mouth. Which is impressive, Peter thinks.

Peter then realizes that this is the most massive invasion of privacy ever and that he probably shouldn't have pressed. "Oh." He says.

"I told you." Deadpool says through a mouthful of food. "Fuuuu _uck_." He digs in the takeout bag and pulls out two more tacos.

"I'm-" Peter starts, [Spider-Man. An asshole. _Sorry_.] "What the hell _happened_ to you?" [Good job, me. _Great!_ ]

Deadpool laughs, but there's a bitter edge to it. "A lot." He answers, "Consecutively. Constantly. That's a better response than spewing your guts, I guess."

Peter shoves more food in his mouth to keep his foot out of there, but he can't tear his eyes away. Which is clearly making Deadpool uncomfortable. More points for the biggest jerk award.

" _Dude._ " the merc pokes Peter's cheek with an index finger and turns his face. "I know I'm a side show, but could you knock it off?"

"Sorry." Peter mumbles, "I just feel like a jerk. I shouldn't have pried."

Deadpool snorts. "This is a _no pity_ zone; my house, my rules. Rule number one: no _pitying_ the freak."

"You're not a freak, scars are normal." Peter tries.

" _Not like this_." The merc insists.

"Isn't that self pity?" Peter asks, picking up the abandoned Xbox controller. "I thought we didn't do that here."

" _Shush_ , you. Trying to use logic on me. Rule number two: no logic." Deadpool says.

"Okay, but that's gonna make it hard to play Fallout." Peter smirks when he hears the merc laugh in earnest.


	5. Fuck My Life: An Autobiography By Peter Parker

Deadpool tucks him in on the couch – _literally_ tucks him in – at around 2 am, but Peter can't _sleep_. Because what the _hell_ had this day turned into. His mind is running a mile a minute. Because underneath the leather, spandex, bloodstains, and humor,

Deadpool really is just _some guy_. Okay, he's still _pretty weird_. But there are _normal_ things too. Normal things like a favorite food and yelling at video game enemies and _crushes_. [Oh _god_.] Peter thinks, [He has a crush on me. _Deadpool_ has a crush on _me_ – well, _sort of_.]

Another thing Peter didn't think Deadpool was is insecure. Pretty _seriously_ so, too. The merc always acts so confident. _Always_. But _now_ Peter has to face the very real possibility that _that_ is an _act_. And if that's an act and Deadpool also never said anything to Spider-Man about how he protects broke people from bad guys who are trying to kill them _for free_ (more or less)... Which is something that _really_ would've changed Peter's mind about him to begin with. But no, no, Deadpool – "I'm in it for the money", ruthless, bloodthirsty killer mercenary _Deadpool_ – completely failed to mention that to Spider-Man. So, then what does it _mean?_

It's all giving Peter a headache. [Would he have a crush on me if he knew? _Me_ me, not my alter ego?] Peter's eyes snap open. He'd all but drifted off to sleep and his mind jumps him with _that_. "What the fuck?" He grumbles into the darkness. It's a cruel joke that one of the few things he can see is Deadpool's wallet. Which he suddenly has the urge to snoop in. But _not_ to see the photo he gave the merc. No, _of course not_.

Not that he _doesn't_ see it, though, because it's on _display_. He stares at it for a while. That night meant absolutely nothing to him. He remembers just enough to know that's when the photo was taken. He remembers thinking that he should get a picture for reference because Deadpool would probably cause him trouble in the future – which isn't _entirely_ untrue, if he's honest. And _now_ , come to find out, it was Deadpool meeting his _idol_. His _crush_. Peter wasn't popular in school. He knows what it feels like to say hi and get _nothing_ from your crush. And that's what he gave the merc: _nothing_. All morally questionable actions – past, present, and future – he wishes he'd engaged a bit more.

"Wouldn't have changed anything." He whispers to himself. "He still kills for money." Peter sighs because, well. He's in Deadpool's apartment and there's still almost $250 in his hoodie pocket, which he brought specifically to hire Deadpool to (hopefully not, but does it really matter, morally) kill one or more people.

He goes to the bathroom and splashes himself in the face with water. It doesn't help, but at least he feels like he _tried_ to do something. He panics when he hears mumbling coming from the merc's room. Had Deadpool been awake this whole time, listening to Peter talk to himself?

Peter risks a peek into Deadpool's room, but the merc is sound asleep. The first thing Peter notices is that Deadpool stripped the suit except the mask; and yes, the scarring is _all over_. Which pangs sharply in Peter's heart and settles there like deadweight, but he's ignoring _that_ for now because _what the fuck_. The second thing he notices is that Deadpool is _singing_ in his sleep. Peter can't quite make out the words, but there's definitely rhythm to it. He can't stop a smirk from forming on his face because it's– pretty endearing, really. So he gets the heck out of that room, _fast_ , because it's been a weird day already and nothing good is going to happen if he stands in a doorway with a smile on his face and listens to a mostly naked mercenary sing in his sleep. [Or something _very_ good.]

"Thanks brain, you're so helpful tonight I'm gonna have to give myself a gold star." He sighs, curling up on the couch. " _Fuck my life_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter you're a fucking disaster.


	6. Speaking Of Hard

Peter wakes up the next morning to clearer but slightly quieter singing. [Is that a song from Steven Universe?]. For a minute, he forgets where he is. It doesn't get less disorienting when he remembers, _oh yeah_ , he's with _Deadpool_. [That's definitely a song from Steven Universe.] He doesn't know why he feels safe under a blanket that smells like cheap detergent and gunpowder, but, well, he does.

"I've always thought I might be bad, now I'm sure that it's true because I think you're so good and I'm nothing like you–" [ _Oh._ ] "Good morning sleepy head~" Deadpool trills when Peter sits up, "I was hoping I'd have breakfast ready by the time you woke up."

"Deadpool–" Peter mumbles.

" _Okay_ , call me Wade, please." The merc says. "You slept on my couch for fuck's sake."

"D– _Wade_ . I hired you, I didn't marry you." Peter says, amused, "Why're you making me breakfast?"

"Well if you don't  _want it_ ." Wade huffs, but grins when Peter's stomach rumbles. "That's what I thought."

Peter blinks the sleepy bleariness out of his eyes and looks into the kitchen. Deadpool–Wade is about as half naked as he was when Peter peeked into his room. Except that it's not dark anymore. And he can see _everything_. Not just the scars, but the muscle moving beneath skin. Wade is _ripped_. [Uh, _no_.] he thinks, [It's too early for _this_.] A look at his phone says it's actually close to noon, but he ignores that just like he definitely ignores how good the merc looks in jeans. [For a guy who got fucked over in the skin department, he's making up _big time_ in other areas. Specifically one area. Specifically big.] Peter's face flushes a deep red and he feels kind of _a lot_ betrayed by his brain. Because he, of course, _does not_ think of Wade in any way other than that he's Deadpool, _the guy who kills for money_. And he's definitely not looking. No, sir.

" _Uh_." Wade shifts on his feet when he catches Peter staring. "I can put on a shirt if it's bothering you? That's... Probably a good idea, I'll–"

Peter stands and catches him by the arm when he walks by. Squeezes maybe a little harder than he needs to. "No, it's–you're–" [Holy hell his biceps are hard.] Peter swallows thickly. [Speaking of _hard_.] "You're fine..."

Peter holds on long enough for Wade to glance down at the fingers digging lightly into his upper arm. He makes a soft noise in confusion that's not quite a word when Peter blushes and lets go. [Why am I such a disaster?]

 

Peter excuses himself to the bathroom and splashes himself with cold water. He glares at himself in the mirror, "You are _not_ , in any _way, shape, or form_ , attracted to Deadpool." He says to his reflection. He glances down to a part of his body that has apparently decided to agree to disagree and scowls. "A guy makes you pancakes and suddenly you're good to go. Just how low are your standards, Parker?"

When he goes back into the living room– after he calms down, of course –there's a plate of pancakes on the coffee table for him (Wade is already 3/4 of the way through with his own). And the merc has put on a shirt. Peter finds himself disappointed. [Only because I made him feel that uncomfortable.] he tells himself, [Definitely not because I liked the view. A lot.]

"It really was fine, y'know." He says when he sits down.

"I believe you." Wade says through a mouthful. "It was fine with _you_."

"Oh." [Well if cold water hadn't killed the boner, _that_ did the trick.]

"Hey, _hey_. No pity, remember?" Wade says, nudging Peter's leg with his knee. "Eat your breakfast, honey."


	7. New Problems, New Solutions

Daytime television sucks, like always, but maybe it sucks a little less with Wade. Because he talks when it's boring, makes comments, mutes the tv and makes up dialogue. Peter can't help but feel a sense of familiarity. He and the merc get along well. Not that they don't as Spider-Man and Deadpool, because they do have enjoyable banter when they're not arguing. Quipping back and forth. But it's different like this. Peter doesn't feel a lingering sense of danger creeping up the back of his neck and Wade isn't quite as defensive. It feels like something he could get used to and that's– kind of a _scary_ thought.

"Hey." He says, nudging Wade, who's leaned against his shoulder. He's amazed at how at ease the merc seems to be with him so quickly. "What are you going to– if those people are in my apartment, what are you gonna _do_ to them?"

"You don't _really_ want to know, do you?" Wade asks, "It's not gonna be pretty, it never is– not to most people, anyway."

"I do." He swallows the lump in his throat. "I have to live with it; I'm doing this, so I _need_ to know."

"Don't punish yourself." Wade says, "You're defending your life."

" _Just_." Peter sighs. "Spare _details_ , but give me a general sense."

Wade nods. "I assume you don't want blood on your carpet – I mean, I can't really control them if they decide to shoot me, but – so, if there's an actual threat–"

"Yeah, I get the idea." Peter's face twists in disgust at the concept. "Without guns and knives, there aren't a lot of options." This whole deal leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "Am I doing something horribly wrong? Should I have just– gone to the police?""This is a repeat conversation between me and your pal, Spidey." Wade says, " _I_ don't think you're doing anything wrong. Illegal, yeah, but the police aren't always the best option. Hell, in my opinion, they're usually the _worst_ option."

"It just goes against everything I ever–" he stops, unsure how to even finish the sentence, "I just don't know what I'm doing anymore."

"Of course it goes against everything you've ever believed." Wade's voice softens, "This is a new experience for you, obviously. You've never been stalked or plotted against." Wade ruffles his hair, which is more comforting than Peter thinks it should be, making his bed head _worse_ somehow. "New problems, new solutions."

"I guess." Peter mumbles. "My neighbor wasn't much older than my aunt and I keep thinking if I don't _do something_ , then..."

"It's gonna be okay, Petey-pie." Wade says and squeezes Peter's shoulder. "A few years from now, this is just gonna be an ugly memory that doesn't even feel real."

Peter is a little foggy on what happens after that but suddenly his arms are around Wade's waist and he has his face pressed against the merc's chest. He should let go because this is beyond weird, but Wade is so solid and warm. He squeezes a but tighter.

" _Uh_." Wade tenses up but puts an arm over Peter's back, the other hanging uselessly at his side. "Okay. You–uh...you alright there, Pete?"

Peter nods against his chest because, yeah, he's pretty damn alright here pressed against solid muscle and _god, so warm_. "You're like a furnace." He says.

"Um, _thanks?_ It's–it's the healing factor thing, it–" His fingers are digging into Peter's shirt like he doesn't know if he wants to rip him off or pull him closer.

"I'm sorry, I'm making you uncomfortable." Peter says, cheeks flushing. He starts to pull away, but Wade holds him still.

"It's...fine. I'm fine." He mumbles, and–and is that _blush_ peeking under the edge of his mask? Wade pulls Peter back into the hug before he can decide. "S'gonna cost you, though." Peter can't help but giggle.


	8. That Was Quick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha here's where it gets nsfw sorry this one is really short but where else was I gonna go

Peter doesn't ask any more questions about what the merc is going to do. Eventually, around midnight, Wade slips into the Deadpool suit and goes to work. He tells Peter not to leave or wait up and to order food if he gets hungry.

Two hours pass and Peter wonders what is going on; he doesn't have a clue how long things like this are supposed to take. He also wonders if the merc would be mad if he used his shower. Hygiene hasn't been high on his list while his life was threatened, but now he has the urge to scrub himself raw. He feels physically and morally dirty. _And_ he hasn't forgotten his body's betrayal from earlier in the afternoon.

He ends up snooping in the bathroom before showering and trying _really_ hard not to think about the lube and box of tissues on the counter. And failing miserably. [Does he think about me when he–] Peter cuts the thought off but not soon enough to keep heat out of his cheeks.

 

After he has washed himself and feels nice and squeaky clean, he stands still and let's hot water flow over him. It's been a while since he felt safe enough to take a long shower. He feels like he's taking advantage of the merc's hospitality, but it feels so good that he can't bring himself to care that much.

"We can work something out later." Something Wade said when Peter hired him, something that the brunet found terrifying then. He doesn't now. The memory of the merc's gravely voice and what sounded like a  _proposition_ sends a spark of heat to his already half-hard cock (the water felt  _really_ nice, okay?) so suddenly that he gasps.

He  _knows_ that Wade didn't mean if that way, but what if he  _had_ ? What would he have wanted Peter to do? Images of himself on his knees at Wade's feet flash into his mind and he groans in frustration. He can't believe he's doing this, thinking these things, in the guy's shower of all places.

After he pleasured Wade, would the merc return the favor? Peter thinks so. Wade has been taking care of him in a lot of ways already. Surely he'd lend a helping hand. Or  _mouth_ . [That'd be a nice way to shut him up.]

He gives in and wraps his fingers around his cock and strokes roughly. He whines and ups the pace, to turned on to care about the lack of slickness. "W– _Wade_ ..." The name stumbles off his lips in reverence and he can almost feel strong arms wrapping around him, scarred lips on his neck, that gravelly voice whispering, " _Cum for me._ " And he does.

"Holy  _fuck_ –" he moans, long and low as he comes over his hand and the shower wall. His legs wobble and he braces himself with his arms so he won't fall down as aftershocks roll through his body.

[ _That_ was quick.] he thinks as his face flushes. He cleans up, dries off, curls up on the couch, and tries to forget about it. When Wade comes back, he pretends to be asleep, but he's not, because he can't stop thinking about it. [What if he had come home a little earlier?] Peter thinks, [What if he had  _caught_ me?] His cock gives an interested twitch and he realizes just how fucked he is.


	9. It Might Be Me

"I trade my soul for a wish, pennies and dimes for a kiss. I wasn't lookin' for this, but now you're in my way. Your stare was holdin', ripped jeans, skin was showin', hot night wind was–" Peter nearly wakes up laughing. Wade huffs in irritation where he's standing at the kitchen sink. "It was on in a cab last night, don't judge me."

"Oh? I thought you just liked overplayed pop singles." Peter quips. "How'd it go last night?"

Wade stills for a moment and shrugs. "Nothin' special. Didn't get blood on your carpet, which I consider an accomplishment, considering I had several new holes when I left."

"I'm sorry." Peter says.

Wade glances at him and pauses washing dishes. "Uh, for wh–thanks. I'm fine. My healing factor, well, did its thing."

[Does no one one ever say anything when he gets hurt?] Peter thinks, [Well...it's not like I ever did before now. He bounces back so fast, I...guess it's easy to forget he feels pain.]

Wade laughs a little awkwardly and resumes the dishes and singing. "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy–"

"You're gonna get that song stuck in _my_ head." Peter groans. He rolls onto his stomach. "So...what now? Our business is concluded, right? So I can go home?"

"Yeah, that's usually how it works." Wade sounds disappointed. Peter suddenly feels giddy. [He's going to miss me.] he tries to remind himself that he's not a tween with a crush. Not that he succeeds. "But here's my number, so call me maybe." Wade sounds even less enthusiastic with his singing than before.

" _Well_ , if you give it to me, I may actually call you." Peter says. It's risky, he knows, but he did like hanging out with Wade. It has absolutely _nothing_ to do with what happened in the shower. _Completely_ unrelated.

The merc brightens instantly. "Since you asked nicely." He doesn't even dry his hands before writing it on a paper towel. _Somehow_ , it survives. "You know, the music video ends with the hot guy giving his number to her friend, right?" He jokes.

"I don't think either of us have any friends." Peter wonders if that sounded like a declaration of interest. He also wonders if it _was_ a declaration of interest. "So...the final cost is?"

"I don't know. I may have busted a wall at your apartment. And you paid for tacos last night. And you gave me that awesome pic of the night I met Spidey..." Wade hums, then snaps his fingers. "Do you have any blooper-type photos of him? For personal amusement, not blackmail."

"I have a box full. They're all yours." He says. "You can come and get them when I go home if you like?"

"When you go home? You're not leaving now?" He sounds confused.

"I mean, if you want me to, but–" Peter shrugs.

"No, no! It's just..." He fidgets with the hem of his shirt. If he wasn't _Deadpool_ , Peter would say he looked _shy_. But Deadpool _couldn't_ be _shy_ , right? "People don't usually hang around after."

"They're missing out." He says honestly. "Pop songs, pancakes, and video games. What better way to spend a morning?"

"Is this your way of asking me to make pancakes for you again?" Wade asks.

"Pleeeaaaseee?" Peter whines, "I'll get close-ups of Spider-Man's ass if you do."

"You've got a deal!" Wade says, sounded absolutely _giddy_. [The most important thing in his life isn't what I thought. It's not money.] Peter thinks, [It might be _me_.] The possibility is terrifying.


	10. Don't You Smell Your Friends?

The next time Peter is in costume, he realizes why Deadpool didn't recognize his voice. It's not that he disguises it, he doesn't, but he's louder and more confident behind the mask. Peter Parker is quieter and somewhat timid. Spider-Man is witty and cool. He missed being that while he was being stalked. There's a certain strength in anonymity. It's nice to be back.

He doesn't turn when he hears someone land a jump from the next building over. He knows who it is. The merc lets out a low whistle. "Well isn't this a sight for sore eyes."

"It's been a little while." He says, "I laid low because a friend was having some problems that could've revealed me."

"Miss me?" Deadpool asks, coming to stand next to Spider-Man.

"I kind of did, actually." He says honestly, a little surprised at himself, even though he did see the merc. There were a couple of weeks before he hired him that he stayed in. And he _did_ miss the back and forth.

"You get a different soap or something?" Deadpool asks and Peter swears his heart skips. [I used _his_.]

"Uh...yeah, on sale or someth– wait, why're you _sniffing_ me?" The brunet asks.

"You smell different and I was curious." The merc shrugs. "Don't you smell your friends? Sorry, _acquaintances_."

" _No_ , I absolutely don't." Just like he absolutely never noticed the decrease in the odor of gunpowder the more time the merc spends with him. Not at all. He sighs, "Peter– he told me."

"Oh." Deadpool says. He sounds...sad. Like a little kid about to be yelled at. "Look, he came to me, alright? All worried about his aunt. I made sure that he was sure about it _and_ I gave him a friend of a friend discount, so–"

"Oh don't give me that bullshit." Spider-Man interrupts.

"It's _not_ bullshit, I'm telling the truth! What'd _he_ tell you?" Peter doesn't think he's ever heard the merc sound so _hurt_.

"You didn't do it for free because of me, you did it because–" he pauses, floundering for a second, "because that's just something you _do_ , apparently."

"I–what?" The merc's voice raises a bit in pitch. "You're not yelling about what I thought you were gonna yell about."

"Yeah, well." Peter shrugs.

"What do you care if I kill for free or not, isn't that just _worse_?" Deadpool asks. "If not for money, then what? _Pleasure_? Doesn't that make me a bigger monster than you already think I am?"

"It's _charity_." The brunet says, "And you aren't a monster. A fucking _asshole_ and a deviant, yes. But not a monster."

The merc is silent for a longer stretch of time than Spider-Man has _ever_ heard before. "Really, now." He tries to make it sound casual. But it doesn't. There shock lining his tone.

"Yeah." The brunet says. "Really. Who'd have guessed, right? _Anyway_. Thanks for saving Peter's ass. I gotta run.

He swings a few blocks over and down into an alley and rests against the wall, trying to figure out _why oh why_ his heart is hammering in his chest. He assumes it has something to do with what happened in Wade's shower a day and a half ago. [Why is this happening?] he thinks, [Why do I so want to see the side of him I saw as Peter? Why did I miss him _before_ that?]


	11. Something...Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one got long af here u go

"There's a, uh..." One of Peter's coworkers taps his shoulder, "There's a man in the lobby asking for you. He's...scaring people."

[Scaring people? Am I still not safe?] he thinks, [It's my lunch break for fuck's sake. Why now?] "Shit–wait, is he wearing a mask?" He asks.

"Yeah, actually." Their face scrunches in confusion. "Like a surgical one, and sunglasses! It's weird..."

"Yeah, okay." Peter relaxes a bit. It's Wade. It has to be.

 

"Look, I know it might seem like I'm here to kill everyone, but I'm not!" Are the words that greet Peter when he gets to the lobby. And there stands Wade fucking Wilson, hood pulled over a cap and dark sunglasses and a surgical mask. Pretty much the only thing showing are his hands and the few bits the mask and glasses don't cover. "It's my _day off_. By the way, that's a nice taser you have strapped to your hip there. Anyone ever tell you that you have a dancer's body? I bet those hips have rhythm."

"You keep strange company, Mr. Parker. First that _menace_ and now _this_." The security guard shakes his head at Peter as he walks away.

" _Hey!_ Why don't you come and shit talk Spidey to my face, you–" Wade all but snarls, but the guard doesn't pay any attention.

"It's okay." Peter says.

" _No it's not_. Spidey is one of the best guys on the planet, maybe even the whole universe, and fucking low life scum sucking security guards like dancer's hip over there think they can just-" he sighs.

"Really, it's alright." Peter insists. And it is. He's used to it. The majority of people have given up on calling him a menace, but a few hang on.

"I–um. This–this might've been a mistake... I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to come here. I'll go home, I'm...sorry for bothering you at work." Wade babbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Lunch?" Peter offers, ignoring the merc's self-deprecating. "My treat."

Wade's face lights up (what's visible of it, anyway), but Peter barely has a chance to see before he's being led out by Wade's hand gripping his collar.

 

Wade lets go when they're a block down the road in favor of gesturing with his hands while he talks. "He said he _missed_ me, and he _thanked _me for helping you!"__

"I guess he just needed a little convincing." Peter smiles, "You should've said something sooner about the charity work, I think."

"I didn't think it would make any difference." Wade shrugs. "I thought he saw me as a monster and that was that."

"Well, you were wrong." Peter says. His voice almost catches in his throat. While he'd always been wary of the merc, this hadn't been quite his intent.

"Hey, what'd his face look like when you told him? Was he _shocked_?" Wade asks, voice perking up again.

"He had a hard time believing at first., but..." Peter glances up at Wade and his heart actually flutters. [ _Fuck no_.] he thinks, [I am so _fucked_.] I think he's coming around."

"Well, thanks for putting in a good word." Wade says.

"Yeah..." His eyes light on a certain café sign. "Hey, I _love_ this place, come on." He grabs Wade's hand without thinking and the way the merc tenses up makes him wonder if that was the worst move ever, but Wade relaxes after a few seconds and grips Peter's hand like its a lifeline. [ _So fucked._ ]

 

The café is small, with circular booths in the corners. Warm colors, good food, and soft music. It's probably Peter's favorite place to eat around his job.

"Don't think I didn't notice that you haven't called, Petey." Wade jokes after they sit in a rounded booth and place orders.

"Didn't wanna seem too thirsty." Peter says, smirk playing at his lips. [ _Stop flirting.]_

Wade laughs, "I mean, I came to your place of work without being invited, so I think I have you beat there."

"Wade: Thirstiest Guy In NYC." Peter says, motioning his hands like its a big movie title.

"But what's this? An up and comer? An underdog?" Wade snickers, " _Someone's thirstin' in my town._ "

"I thirst in peace."

 

[Is this a date?] Peter asks himself once they've finished eating. And Wade did feed him food. Which is. Not something you're supposed to do if it's not a date or a really close, long time friend. Right? "Hey, can I... Can I take a picture to commemorate this? Our first official..." [For the love of god, do not say _date_.] "Hanging out."

In an instant, all the lightness drops from the mood and Peter wishes he never spoke. "Why the fuck would you want a picture of me?"

"Of _us_." Peter corrects, "I like taking pictures of things I know'll make happy memories. It was insensitive and I'm sorry I brought it up."

Wade sighs heavily, scoots around to Peter's side of the booth, and puts an arm over Peter's shoulders. " _One picture._ "

"You really don't have to if you don't want to." Peter mumbles, trying not to think about where Wade's arm is and how warm it feels on his skin.

"Just take it before I change my mind." He tugs the mask down and there's a deep frown set in his features, but also something like determination.

Peter lifts his camera up and turns it around. "Say: Spider-Man's ass." He hears Wade laugh before he takes the picture.

When Peter looks back at the merc, there's an intense fondness set in his face, directed with complete and total focus at the brunet. It makes his face heat up. "Um..." He swallows thickly and can't stop his gaze from flickering to the smirk on Wade's lips.

"Well?" The merc asks, running his tongue out over his bottom lip. Which absolute does not put butterflies in Peter's stomach. "Let's see that pic."

Peter lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and turns the camera back around, nearly dropping it. [Holy fuck.] "Y-yeah, hang on..." He scrolls through photos until he finds the most recent one. [We almost... _I_ almost  _kissed_ him.]

"Aw, look at your cute little face." Wade giggles, pinching Peter's cheek. "Like an actual  _angel_ ."

Peter flushes further and studies the photo. "It's a good one." He breaths.

"Half of it, anyway." Wade says, "I mean, you look  _adorable_ , but–"

"You have a beautiful smile." Peter says honestly. Because it's true. Wade's smile is genuine and unaffected by his insecurities. A rare kind, something...perfect. It reminds him of a project he did in college. Making people laugh and then snapping a photo. Some of his volunteers dwelt on their flaws, but a lot of them kept and framed the pictures. They thought it was him being a skilled photographer, but he knew it was because they were already beautiful how they were. They just needed someone to show them.

"Oh, come on." Wade scoffs after a minute, breaking Peter out of his memory. "You must really wanna get in my pants."

"Wh-what?" Peter stutters. [I mean. I did jerk off in your shower. To the thought of you. But.] "It's just–"

"I'm  _kidding_ ." Wade laughs, "You're just a sweetheart. Goes with your angel face. Let's get you back to work before you say anything else sappy and make me blush."


	12. Maybe

Peter is just outside the lobby, in the hall, when he hears an extra set of footsteps. His senses are tingly, but it doesn't seem _too_ serious.

"S'up bitch." He hears. [Oh no.] "I heard from a little birdy that _you_ were talkin' shit about Spider-Man."

Peter peeks around the corner and sees Wade in the Deadpool suit standing with his hands on his hips in front of the terrified security guard.

" _Atomic wedgie_ –" the next thing he hears is a shriek and Wade is down.

[So that _taser_.] he decides to go over. "I'm. I'm sorry." He says to Wade and the guard.

"Oh, hey honey." Wade says when he can talk again, his voice strained. "Didn't think you'd still be here..."

"I forgot something." [Too busy thinking about a particular _almost_ that hat happened earlier.]

"I wasn't gonna hurt him, I was just–" Wade says, sitting up.

"Wedgies _do_ hurt, but I get your point." Peter rolls his eyes. [This is the guy I want to kiss. _This_ one.]

"You _know_ this piece of shit?" The guard hisses, confidence renewed now that he's not alone. "Just what the fuck do you _do_ on the weekend?"

"He's a friend of Spider-Man's." Peter says. "A very...defensive, loyal friend."

"Oh." Wade mumbles, a bit of disbelief in his tone.

"You're friends with that _menace_?" The guard glares at Wade. "No wonder he ruins everything, with friends like _you_."

"Oh." Wade says, quieter.

"Look, we had a close call with a wedgie, no need to keep acting like we're in middle school." Peter sighs. "Get up, let's go."

 

"I guess he does have a point." Wade pouts after they've walked a few blocks. "Hangin' around me can't do much for Spidey's rep. Maybe I should just leave him alone..."

" _No_ , absolutely not." Peter says, "He missed you while he was laying low."

"He was just being nice, it's who he is." Wade argues.

"The fuck does _Jeff_ know?" Peter snaps, "He's a security guard because he's too lazy to be a New York City cop, which is an _achievement_. He doesn't know Spider-Man. _I do._ "

"You're too sweet to me." Wade says, sounding exhausted. "Dunno why. I don't see what you're getting out of it."

" _God_." Peter sighs, "How do I get you out of this shitty mood? Honesty doesn't seem to work. You want lies? Jeff's being wedgied super hard by the copy machine right now and we're _missing_ it."

Wade huffs and it's almost a laugh. It's a start. "Let me make it up to you for buying lunch today."

"Yes, please." Peter says. "Shouldn't you change first?"

"What is it with you constantly asking me to take off my clothes?" Wade chuckles. "S'like you want to see me naked."

[I do.] "Oh shut up. I likes the civvies. The surgical mask was a nice touch. Very smog chic."

 

"You we're gonna buy me dinner, how'd we end up ordering pizza to your apartment?" Peter asks.

Wade is back down to sweatpants, a shirt, and his mask down to his nose. "Because you started playing Fallout while I was getting dressed."

"Sure, sure. All my fault, not like you encouraged me to accept this quest knowing that it was super long." Peter complains.

"I ordered a whole second pizza because you don't like pineapples." Wade scoffs, "I'm a perfect gentleman."

"I have a question, since I've seen you eat a few times now." Peter says. "How much can you fit into your mouth."

"I've been known to be able to take a lot in my mouth." Wade says, smirking.

"So have I." Peter counters, casting a side-glance at Wade, who falters for a second. If he's going to throw out innuendos, he'd better be prepared to get them right back. "Maybe even _award-winningly_."

They settle into silence, but Peter doesn't feel awkward at all. The air around them is definitely charged with _something_ , but it isn't awkwardness. Wade is eventually saved from having to respond by the doorbell.

 

Peter wipes sauce from the corner of his mouth with his thumb and sucks it in, hollowing his cheeks around the digit. He hums softly as he pulls his thumb out with a pop. "So good." He murmurs. He knows exactly what he's doing. He also knows that he has Wade's full attention. "You alright?" He asks sweetly, feigning innocence, nodding to the uneaten pizza in Wade's hand.

The merc's jaw is a bit slack and he takes a minute to respond. "Fine..." He mumbles, voice hoarse and thick. [I guess it's working.]

"You sure?" Peter slides a bit closer to Wade on the couch. The box is still sitting on the merc's lap and Peter feels like he has a pretty good idea why. "Pretty sure I've eaten more than you tonight." He reaches for another slice and presses the box down while he's feeling for it because he'll be damned if he takes his eyes off the merc for even one second. He smirks when Wade's breathing hitches.

 

Peter stretches slow after he finishes his second piece of pizza, arching his back and sighing happily. "It's getting late." He says.

"Yeah." Wade's voice sounds completely wrecked and Peter feels pretty buzzed on what might be a power trip. [I'm the cause of that.]

"Do you want me to go?" Peter asks. "Because I wouldn't mind sleeping here." [In your bed. Doing all those dirty things I made you think about tonight. What the fuck is up with me?]

Peter watches Wade's adam's apple bob as he swallows. "I, _um_. He clears his throat. "N-not that it wouldn't be great having you here, but I..."

"S'okay." Peter says, patting Wade's hand, which found its way down next to Peter's thigh like he couldn't quite work up the courage to touch. "Another time, maybe."

"Maybe." Wade agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to google "how to eat pizza sexily" for this which is something I would never have thought to google in my life otherwise


	13. Not No Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning for minor suicidal ideation. I mean, it's Wade so I think people are probably already prepared, but I wanna be sure. EDIT: I can't believe I forgot to put this on here.
> 
> Before you read this chapter I have something to say.
> 
> Dear Wade's penis,  
> I am deeply sorry for going for a sort of "sexy librarian" trope with Peter and making him a devious tease. I can't promise it won't happen again. In fact, I can almost guarantee that it _will_ happen again.  
> Thank you for your patience and cooperation.  
> Sincerely, the author

"Baby boy, can I ask you something?" Wade swings his feet off the edge of the roof they're sitting on. "I know you'll be objective."

"Okay." Spider-Man says.

"Do you think there's any way someone could, I don't know, be attracted to me?" He asks, sounding a bit strained, like the words don't fit out of his mouth.

"How am I supposed to answer that? I've never seen you." Peter lies, because he has seen _some_.

"Right." Wade stares down at his feet. "Fair point, but you know I'm pretty fucked up. I mean, the suit's gotten ripped a few times."

"But I haven't seen your _face_." Peter says, "You're hugely muscled, I'm sure someone's into that." [Like _me_. I'm into that.]

"Okay." Wade says, and then sighs, "Okay, but I need you to not scream or puke because I'm not ready to go through that again."

"Wow, what kind of assholes do you normally deal with– wait, are you–" he turns to Wade in time to see the merc pull his mask up and all the way off.

Wade stares at the mask in his hand, not making eye contact, his body tense like he's ready to get up and run or maybe throw himself off the edge of this building. Which is a scary thought. Peter knows he'd live, but...it would hurt.

"It was a stupid question right?" Wade laughs, "There's _no way_."

[God he sounds like he's about to cry.] "Deadpool." Peter's voice is soft, "Look at me."

" _No_." Wade grits out, "You didn't ask for this."

"I literally just asked you to look at me." Peter says.

" _Fine_. But don't say I didn't warn you." The merc looks up and Peter is glad that he's wearing his own mask. Glad that Wade can't see the hurt and sympathy in his eyes. He knows Wade wouldn't take it well.

"What do you want me to say?" He asks.

"The truth." Wade answers. "Be brutally honest, don't sugarcoat anything for me."

"You look like you've been through hell." Peter says. "And I think you probably have, but no, I wouldn't–"

"I thought as much. I mean, I know _you_ wouldn't, but–" the merc babbles, turning his gaze back to the street below. And now he definitely looks like that's where he wants to go. "S'fine. Dunno what I expected."

Peter's heart aches and he can't help reaching out and clasping his hand on Wade's shoulder. "I wouldn't say there was no way." Peter finishes and Wade glances back up at him for a second.

"You're nice. Why are you so nice?" Wade shakes his head.

"Because it's the truth." [His eyes are gorgeous.] "Is there...someone in particular?" Peter hopes Wade can't hear his heart thrumming in his chest.

"I don't know, I–maybe." Wade sighs, "I just can't shake the feeling that something bad will happen and..." He looks up at Spider-Man again.

Peter shrugs, "Isn't there just as much of a chance that something good will happen?"

Wade makes a non-committal noise and puts his mask back on. Peter is starting to really hate that thing.

"Thanks." The brunet says. Peter painfully aware that the merc hasn't shaken his hand off like the few times times he tried before. Because Peter may have hated him but he's always been full of sympathy.

"For?" Wade asks.

"For showing me. For trusting me." Peter responds. [In a way I can't bring myself to be with you. Because I'm a coward.] "It means a lot. More than you know."

Wade huffs and stretches, rolling his shoulders and shaking Peter's hand off finally. "This got really real, really fast, and I need a nap. A long one. Like, an Odin-esque nap."

"My advice? Take it slow." he says, despite the fact that he wants to do the _opposite_. "You're clearly working through some things in your own head and you don't need to pile someone else's shit on top of it."

"Baby boy, if I have to work through _my problems_ , the world will end before I get laid."

[Oh. He–he _does_ want to–] "You don't have to finish working through them, you just need to be in a place where you can let someone help." Peter says, "And you're asking me for advice, so...maybe you're getting there. Maybe you're doing better than you think."

"I don't know."

"That whole 'can't see the forest for the trees' thing." Peter nods. "You're a good guy, Wade. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."


	14. Shit

"You said the recipe was saved on your phone?" His aunt calls from the living room.

"Yeah." He answers, rinsing a plate. "I thought it would be cool to learn to make it."

"Funny, you were never into Mexican food when you were younger. Cooking for someone special?" Her tone implies that she definitely knows the answer to that. [Oh fuck, is she snooping?]

"May, what're you-"

"Hello?" She says, quieter. "Sorry, I was looking for something on Peter's phone and must've dialed by accident."

[Liar. This is 100% on purpose.] "May, _no_." Peter dries his hands and rushes to the other room.

Over the phone he hears a laugh, "Now who's this?" Wade asks. "Peter, I can't believe you're cheating on me! Can't blame you though, she shoulda like a total fox."

" _Ohmygod_." Peter groans. "You did not accidentally-"

"Is this the one you've been telling me about, Peter?" May asks, practically gushing. "He has such a handsome voice!"

" _May!_ " Peter can hear the horror in his own voice.

"We'd love to have you over for dinner." She says, and hands the phone to Peter. "He wants to talk to you, dear."

"You are a devious woman..." Peter whines. "Hi, Wade."

"That your aunt? She sounds hot." Wade giggles, "If you don't want me to come, I understand. I'll-"

"No, I do want you to." Peter sighs, "I just didn't know if you'd go for the idea."

"The idea of free food? I'm always down for a free meal!"

"You can't wear the mask." Peter says. He remembers their last encounter as alter egos. Wade didn't seem too comfortable without it.

"Oh." Wade sounds disappointed. "Right, wouldn't wanna terrify her."

"No, not that. She'd be fine." Peter says, "I was worried about _you_. You're not exactly keen on showing off."

"I'll be fine." Wade says. "Should I bring anything, or...?"

"Just yourself." Peter swears his heart is going to beat out of his chest.

 

"That was _evil_." Peter says when he gets off the phone. May had taken over for him with the dishes.

She laughs, "So, is he coming?"

"Yes." Peter pouts. "We-we're not dating."

"Do you _want_ to be?" She asks, glancing at him with a sly smile. "Because you have emojis next to his name in your contacts, you've talked about him every time we've chatted for the past week, and you're learning to cook food he likes."

Peter shrugs. "It's...complicated."

"How so?" She asks.

"Well, he has some issues. _Serious_ ones. Some of which I've mentioned, and I'm just..." He sighs, "If I screw up, I'm gonna make everything worse for him and he's been through enough. And then there's the fact that _I_ am scared of getting hurt again."

"Peter, you're over-thinking." She says fondly. "You need to get out of that big brain of yours sometimes."

"It's funny you say that." Peter says, "I feel like I am getting out of my head when I'm with him– _that sounds so sappy._ What's _happening_ to me?"

" _Feelings_." She laughs.

 

[We're sort of dating now, aren't we?] Peter thinks, as he pretends not to pace by the front door. [I'm introducing him to my aunt and _she_ thinks I'm-shit.] He's so lost in thought that the knock at the door makes him jump.

"Hey." He says when he opens the door. [When was the last time I was this nervous?] "Come in."

Wade hesitates like he spent the whole way over being convinced it was a mistake. The mask is off. "That all? Nothing to say about this?" He waves at hand at himself.

[A lot of things. A lot of questions.] Peter reached up and brushes his fingers against Wade's cheek. Wade flinches at first but doesn't stop him. [Who did this? Who hurt you? And why?] "I love your eyes." He says, and his voice is quiet.

Wade huffs a laugh and moves Peter's hand away, squeezing it lightly before letting go. " _Sap_ ." He goes into the kitchen and introduces himself to May, since Peter is a bit compromised. [Oh god, do I have  _feelings_ for  _Deadpool?_ ]

 

"So, I don't know if you noticed or not, but I am a _huge fan_ of Mexican cuisine." Wade says, gesturing to his empty, practically licked clean plate.

"It was Peter's idea." May grins, "I'm glad you like it."

"Aw, Petey. Did you do this for me?" He bats his eyes.

Peter's face feels as hot as the surface of the sun. "Yes." He says. _Fine_. If Wade wants to tease, then he's just going to be brutally honest. "I know you like this kind of stuff and I wanted to do something nice." [ _Stop pouting, Parker._ ]

"You're adorable." Wade coos, pinching Peter's cheek. "Such a sweetheart. May, you've got a great boy here."

She beams, "Thank you. You've been the perfect guest. I'd love to have you over more often."

"If the food's always this good and the company's always this charming, count me in." Wade winks.

 

They take a walk afterwards, [I love the city at night. Who doesn't?] walking close enough to bump shoulders once and a while. Wade is surprisingly quiet before sighing and taking a surgical mask out of his pocket. Peter catches his arm before he can put it on. "Wait."

Wade makes a confused and irritated noise. "Thought you liked this thing. Smog chic, wasn't it?"

"I like your face more." Peter says. Wade huffs and drags him into an alley. For a moment, Peter's mind flashes with a lot of _great_ , dirty things, but then there are alarms going off in his head and Wade's expression is ice and venom and spite as he slams Peter against the brick.

"What do you _want_ from me?" Wade growls.

"I–" Peter swallows, which is hard because of the hand on his throat. "I don't..."

"No one is this nice unless they want something. What do you want? What's your angle?" Wade asks, and there's none of his usual bounce in his tone.

"To get to know you better?" Peter hates the fear in his voice, but he can't help it.

"Take a good look." Wade says, "Take a good, long fuckin' look at where you are and whose hand is around your neck. _This_ is me."

"So you're not the guy who made me pancakes 'cause I asked and listens to trendy pop songs but pretends he doesn't and is actually someone you take home to meet your family?" Peter babbles, "Fuck that. Fuck that and fuck you." Peter grits out.

"Exactly." Wade grins and Peter's stomach churns.

"You don't get to act like a monster with me anymore because I _know_ it isn't true. I guess if you don't want that getting out, you need to tighten those fingers. Go on, if you're a monster. _Kill me_."

Wade's face drops back to blankness and then fear and pain and his eyes skitter back and forth before he lets go and turns away, wrapping his arms around himself. "I-I'm...fuck, Peter." He sighs, "I'm fucked up, I'm all wrong. You don't need this shit in your pretty life."

Peter is really surprised that the merc didn't tuck tail and run immediately. He even turns back around when Peter breathes in and out deep and slow. "I want. To get to know you." Peter repeats. "I already knew _that_ was a part of you."

"Somethin' must be wrong with you." Wade shakes his head. "Why would _you_ –"

Peter wraps his arms around him. "Who lied and told you that you didn't deserve _anything_? Don't answer. I'll just wanna hurt them."

"Petey–" Wade starts, and his voice is shaky.

"Come over. I bought a DVD set of Steven Universe because of that song you were singing." Peter says. "You don't have to be scared of me."

Wade leans his forehead against Peter's and laughs softly. "Shit." He mumbles, a grin on his lips but pain in his eyes. "Okay, yeah. That–that sounds nice, actually."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -maniacal laughter- -cough-


	15. Torch Knows Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for suicide mention, depression, suicidal ideation. This is a sad chapter but it's gonna be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The majority of this chapter is from Wade's perspective because there just wasn't a better way to do it (and thanks to fliaway the help on this chapter and the previous one <3)

Peter falls asleep around 1am and Wade is really starting to think he doesn't sleep enough. Ever. And hasn't in months or maybe years. Maybe the brunet thinks Wade hasn't noticed that the concealer he puts under his eyes rubs off during the day and leaves a dark cast under those pretty hazels.

He settles Peter into a somewhat comfy position on the couch and covers him up with a blanket that had been haphazardly thrown over the back. "You sleep here a lot, dontcha, honey?" Wade whispers.

[he's obviously very lonely]  
{he'd have to be desperate to hang out with _you_ }  
[exactly]

"Shut up." Wade mumbles and pulls his hood up. "Is it impossible that he actually likes me?"

[yes]  
{hahaha _hahaHAHAHAHA OH_ }  
[the last thing in the world that could happen, maybe]  
{that's fricking rich, big guy!}  
[don't assume Spider-Man wouldn't lie to you to protect your feelings]  
{the ones he thinks you have at least}  
[because the webbed wonder is a nice kid, and he feels sorry for you]  
{Spider-filled-with-feels-Man}  
[he pities you]  
{nah. Petey and Spidey probably laugh at what a train wreck you are}  
[or that]  
{"not impossible" _HAH_ }

They're still going on – with a brief intermission to talk about dinner – when Wade gets back to his place. He goes into his bathroom and rips off the sheet he had put over the mirror after Peter left a few days before. It's not something he does often.

{ _my eyes_!}  
[you don't have eyes]  
{ewwww what is he _doing?_ make it stop}

"Peter sees _something._ Somethin' that I don't. What is it?" Wade blinks. Nope, nothing new. Just scars and bad and ugly. "What the fuck is it?"

{gore kink}  
[makes sense]  
{all that on your face gets him horny~}  
[ew]  
{what do you have against getting laid?}  
[I'm just concerned for Peter's wellbeing if he's attracted to _this_ ]  
{too bad. Peter wants this ugly, fucked up mess for some reason. I'm saying its a kink}

" _Shut up._ " Wade growls. "Waste of time." He tucks the edges of the sheet into the top corners of the mirror and goes to plop face down onto his bed.

{duh}  
[it's always a waste of time to look]  
{what'd you think was gonna be there? Roses?}

He's torn from self loathing by this phone ringing. He groans and doesn't answer the first call. They can wait, whoever they are.

[what if it's Peter]  
{" _Oooh_ W-Wade senpai, where did you go? I need you to _fill me_ with your _giant_ -"}

"Hello?" Wade says, answering the phone if only to disrupt where Yellow was going with that.

"Wade, dear..." It's Peter's aunt, at 3am.

{booty call!}  
[the Parkers are a weird bunch]  
{get some!}

"May? Everything alright?" He asks.

"I've been up all night debating how to say this." She sighs. Well, it sort of sounds like a booty call. "I know I'm just being over protective, but I worry about Peter. He really likes you and I'm just...concerned."

"Is there..." He mumbles, "Something specific about me that bothers you?"

[I'm sure there are a lot of things]  
{let's start with that face}  
[and the killing]  
{and the face}  
[and the ego]  
{the face}  
[the _everything_ ]  
{ _the face_ }

"You were wonderful company." Her voice is only a little reassuring. "It's just that you seem a little...distant."

[a bit of an understatement]

"I don't want him to get hurt." She continues, "He's had a hard time for a while and I don't think he can handle having his heart broken again. So, if...if you aren't ready for something serious, he needs to know that."  
"Oh." Wade says, throwing an arm over his eyes, "Uh."

[the easiest way not to hurt him would be to stay away]  
{noooo}  
[probably the only way not to hurt him is to stay away]  
{can't we fuck him first?}  
[no]

She tells him goodnight and he sighs when he puts the phone down. "This has been a shitty day."

[every day is]  
{you're only here because you don't have a choice}  
[you could go away for a few hours]  
{a "nap"}

"Don't feel like cleanin' up." He mutters. "Rather take an actual nap."

{hahahaHAH _AHAHAH_ }  
[I don't think–]  
{ _HAHAHAHA_ }  
[I don't see that happening]

He sends Peter a text that says "I don't want to hurt you" and spends the next week avoiding him.

\---

Peter knows Johnny Storm. He didn't ask to know him, didn't ask to be his friend (it was cool at first, but Johnny is a tremendous nerd). Of all the people Johnny could hang out with, he chooses Peter. The brunet doesn't get it. He knows if he doesn't text back that Johnny will be at his door in under ten minutes. It's always what happens. Peter just not sure yet if that's what he wants.

It's been over a week and Wade won't answer his texts or calls after that damn last message. "I don't what to hurt you." He mumbles. He would laugh if his throat didn't hurt from crying. But it does. So he doesn't laugh. He doesn't understand what he did wrong, because he must've. Because Wade didn't do anything that Peter wasn't really prepared for. He thought they had resolved what happened in the alley. Apparently he was wrong.

"If I shower tonight," he says out loud, "then I can not have to bother with it for work tomorrow and two more extra days off after." Not a lot for him to do with Spider-Man being inactive for so long. And the city isn't even in turmoil. "A reminder I don't matter at the perfect time." He grumbles.

He rolls onto his back, letting the sheets twist uncomfortable under him. This isn't Wade's fault. He's been dealing with this lost, empty, hopeless feeling for a while. It's just that maybe it was nice to someone who got it. Someone who is facing similar issues. Maybe that was nice. And maybe he misses that. Sue him.

Johnny lets himself in not five minutes later (he made a key for himself after the first time he saw Peter in such a state). He doesn't say anything and a few minutes later Peter feels the bed dip next to him ms fingers brush the wild, oily hair out of his face. He needs a haircut, not that that's going to happen. "Don't." He says, pushing the hand off. "I'm gross and need a shower."

"You wanna talk?" Johnny asks, on his side and propped up with a hand on his chin.

Peter sighs. "You know that...guy I was telling you about?"

"How could I forget?" Johnny smiles, then frowns. "I need to kick his ass, don't I? What'd he do? Where is he?"

Peter almost cracks a smile but can't quite manage it since Johnny doesn't make him feel obligated to pretend he's fine. "No, it's–it's complicates. He has some major trust issues and I came on pretty strong, _so_ it's my fault." Peter says. "And I have to tell you something, but promise not to yell at me."

"Uh...okay." Johnny gives him a skeptical look.

"He's um...his name– his name is– it's Wade." He says, and pulls his pillow over his head. "It's fucking _Wade._ "

" _Wade Wilson_?" Johnny gasps, "Like– like _Deadpool?_ That Wade?"

"Yep. That one." Peter says.

"Holy shit."

"Yeah." Peter sighs, "I know how it sounds, I just..."

"I guess I see it." Johnny says, which makes Peter peek from under his pillow. "Take away the whole ruthless mercenary thing and he's just a guy you have a lot in common with. Most importantly: your senses of humor."

"Oh."

"And like I've only met the guy a few times, but I've got him figured out." Johnny says, relaxing back on the bed.

"I doubt it." Peter scoffs.

"No, hear me out." Johnny insists. "That overt confidence and 'I'm the best' extrovert thing he has going on, that's one hundred percent fake. I mean, I'm assuming you've seen him?"

"Yeah–wait, when did you?" Peter removes himself from his hiding place.

"It was a few years ago and you were taking final exams, not important. My point is that he's got insecurities as big as that ego he fakes and yeah, you probably scared the hell out of him." The blond pinches Peter's cheeks.

"Well...uh." Peter pushes his hands away again, "That's...insightful."

"I live alone in the Baxter building alone." Johnny says, "I have a lot of time to think."

"I thought you just took selfies." Peter teases, and Johnny grins.

"Hey that's _your_ job." He pats the side of Peter's face. "So does he know who you are?"

Peter shakes his head. "I just...I don't know if it's a habit or what..."

"Worried it'll create a power imbalance?" Johnny asks. Peter makes a mental note not to underestimate Johnny anymore.

Peter doesn't answer so Johnny rolls over and lifts himself up to lay on top of the brunet. Peter makes a noise out of irritation and Johnny grins. "Why are you laying on top of me?"

"Because you're sad and I'm a cat." Johnny says.

"What did I tell you about online quizzes?" Peter sighs. He doesn't bother pushing Johnny off. Because he's warm, he's the Human Torch but he's also the Human Heated Blanket. And Peter is always cold.

"Nyah." Johnny says.

"No."

"Peter." The brunet ignores the patting on his face. "Pete. Buddy. Pal. Kiddo. Torch Jr–"

" _No_." Peter grumbles.

" _Pumpkin butt_."

Peter sighs and relents. "What?"

"I want like." Johnny looks starry eyed. "A giant bag of Doritos right now. The biggest bag on earth. In the universe."

"Johnny." Peter face palms. "What the fuck, man?"

"Let's get lunch tomorrow." He says.

"Not today?" Peter asks with a heavy sigh.

"Gotta make sure you get out of bed tomorrow." Johnny says. "And eat. And, y'know, exist."

 

They're quiet for a while before the blond pipes up again, putting down his phone after typing furiously for a few minutes. "Hey, let's go do that thing you do when you're sad."

"What thing?" Peter asks. "Nap? We don't need go anywhere to do that."

"You don't nap." Johnny scoffs. "You run on an engine fueled by salt and angst."

"Shut up."

"I meant visiting your uncle and parents' graves." Johnny says.

"As if that'll make me less sad." Peter sighs.

"At least then you can be sad _at_ something." Johnny grins like he's up to something.

\---

Wade's phone chimes seven times before he picks it up. Johnny Storm, who he forgot even had his number. He thinks he gave it to him when Johnny said his sister wouldn't let him send her memes anymore.

"Remember me?"  
"Listen man. Pal o' mine."  
"Kind of."  
"Spider-Man is going to kick your ass unless you fix this."  
"You know that cemetery I see you visiting when I do flybys?"  
"Get there."  
"Peter likes you, you ass."

Wade has a habit of visiting cemeteries on days like this anyway. Days when everything is too loud and too bright and _too much_. When he can't focus on even simple tasks through them. He probably would've come anyway, just later.

He's not sure what it is that makes him feel better. But it's something. It doesn't make any of it go away, but he can deal with it. Usually. But today is a special case and his his nerves are buzzing more than usual.

[this is a mistake]  
{literally the worst one ever}  
[he doesn't like you]  
{he can't possibly}

"Torch doesn't care enough about me to lie." He insists, tugging at the hood on his head. To no use, it won't come down any further. "Just give me a break."

[you know how to do that]  
{click click bang}  
[I thought it was click click boom]  
{guns don't go boom}  
[what about grenade launchers?]  
{no, _grenades_ go boom, grenade _launchers_ don't}  
[fair]

Wade's eyes light on a familiar figure. And he knew Peter would be here. Why else would Torch have directed him to come? Peter sits cross-legged in front of a row of three tombstones, all of which end in "Parker". Wade doesn't want to go over. It's too real already and if he leaves now then he saves Peter more hurt.

That all goes out the window when Peter hunches forward, head in his hands. Wade can't stop his legs from moving. Peter looks up when he hears the grass crunch next to him. His looks so tired and it makes Wade's stomach turn. His eyes are red and dark and puffy, like he's done nothing but cry for days. Maybe he hasn't.

[good job]  
{yeah, fucker!}  
[you did this]

"It's not like you owed me anything." Peter says. "You still don't. You don't have to stick around. No one else ever does." He turns back to the graves.

"Peter–" Wade sighs. This is the worst he has felt in quite a while.

"It's fine. I'm used to it." Peter sniffs. "I'm used to being alone. And I'm used to every time I think maybe u won't have to be–" he chokes off and rests his forehead on his knees. "Everyone just...just keeps l-leaving."

Peter lets Wade pull him up and into his arms and he cracks, sobbing, when he presses his cheek against Wade's chest. Wade doesn't know what to say. He knows nothing will help. "I'm sorry." He mumbles. "I thought–"

"I know. I'm upset with you but I know. I get it." He sighs. "I lied, you owe me. You owe me like twenty pancakes at least." Wade hugs him tighter.

{you know who else we haven't seen all week?}  
[who?]  
{Spidey!}  
[not this again]  
{look, I'm just saying.}  
[he isn't Spider-Man. Look at him]  
{I've never seen Peter Parker and Spider-Man in the same room, have you?}  
[he takes pictures of Spider-Man for a living!]  
{but he's not _in_ any of them}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you or someone you know is having thoughts of suicide, please seek help. I've been there and it is not easy to get through it on your own. It's definitely possible, and I have before, but it's easier with someone to talk to. Anyone, anyone positive at all. Anyone willing to listen to you rant. Even a stranger. The app Vent helped me a lot during my worst times, and there are other things like that I'm sure. You can also call hotlines, and don't ever feel like your problems aren't as important as other people's problems, because you matter just as much and it's just that dark thing inside you making you sick and telling you that. I promise that it is lying and you matter so much, and that it will get better. I know that's cliche and unbelievable in those bad times but it's the truth. And if you're having trouble please don't hesitate to message me on my tumblr: aspiritedpotato. I won't have much advice to give but I will listen and I also have a lot of things gathered in my tagged/self-care that helped me and others.


	16. He's Not Always Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had to scrape this chapter out of my braaaaain. Like I have things for the next few chapters but I s t r uggled with this one. I don't know whY. I got it done tho, that's what matters. Thank you Johnny for being a filler character I'm using to draw things out a little longer >.>

Wade did make him those twenty pancakes. Twenty-seven, to be exact. He tucks a very full and sleepy Peter into bed before midnight (it's probably the earliest Peter has gone to bed in years) and gives the brunet a kiss on the forehead. Peter makes an excited squeak that he might be embarrassed about for the rest of his life.

Then, the next morning Peter wakes up to a text message from Wade that says "Got a job, will text when it's finished." [ _Oh right_.] Peter thinks, [He's a mercenary.] He has been so caught up in the emotional roller coaster that he completely forgot what Wade does for a living. He takes Johnny up on his offer for lunch to get his mind off of it.

 

"I'm still not over the fact that you knew Wade personally and never said anything." Peter says. "I wondered why you stopped sending me four thousand texts daily."

"Jealous?" Johnny grins, "I promise, babe, you are the only one who gets my 3am existential questions." he pats Peter's hand.

" _Good_." Peter says

"So, how was dinner with your aunt?" Johnny asks. "We didn't really go into detail yesterday."

" _Small?_ We're the same height!" Peter pouts. "It was nice. I expected something to go wrong, I kept waiting for something to go wrong."

"I cannot _believe_ that he met your aunt _before me_." the blond pouts. "I'm broken-hearted."

"Maybe it's your contact name. I mean, she called Wade, not me." Peter opens his contacts and scrolls down to Johnny's. "Maybe no one wants 'InvaderDickSupreme' to come to dinner."

A shame." Johnny says, "I'm a great guest. I always bring pie."

Peter shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "So, uh. How'd he react when _you_ saw?" he asks.

"I think his exact words were 'I'll put a .45 between your eyes'. This was our freshman year of college, so like...it was a new thing. It wasn't even in his file yet." Johnny says. "I don't wanna brag, but I was one of the first ten to see."

"Wow." Peter sighs and leans back in his seat. "Why didn't you ever tell me to stop being such a jerk?"

"Because I value my life." Johnny laughs, "Imagine that conversation: 'hey, go easy on Wade'. He would punch me immediately."

"I got a 'no pity' speech right away." Peter says.

"He's always given me the impression that he's been betrayed and/or fucked over a lot. And lied to." Johnny says. "So, nice equals bad."

So, what...does he want me to be mean to him?" Peter puts his head in his hands.

" _Spider-Man_ is mean to him. Bosses him around, yells at him, holds him accountable for his actions, throws tantrums-"

" _Hey_." Peter pinches Johnny's nose.

"I think it's the bossy part, mostly." the blond's voice comes out even more nasally than usual. "If you catch my drift." he waggles his eyebrows.

"Oh _god_." Peter lets go of Johnny's nose to cover his quickly reddening face. "Why am I friends with you?"

"Because I'm amazing and you love me." Johnny beams. Peter sighs in exasperation. "The three of us should do something together."

"Like what?"

Johnny shrugs. "Something child. Mario Kart and take-out. I'm familiar to both of you, so. Maybe it'll make it easier."

"Just remember that he doesn't know a very _specific_ , very _important_ thing." Peter peeks between his fingers.

"Yeah, yeah." Johnny waves his hand dismissively. "I got your back, Torch Jr."

"Is _that_ the one that's gonna stick?" Peter sighs.

"I thought Wade might get jealous of pumpkin butt." Johnny says, then laughs. "Though, I guess this one isn't much better since it implies that I'm your _daddy_."

"Johnny, _no_."

"You should tell him, though." Johnny's voice is suddenly serious. "I mean it, and before things go too far. Don't wait until it's too late. Don't ruin it for yourself. You deserve to be happy."

"Thanks." Peter gives him a tired smile. "I gotta get back to work."

 

Peter spends the rest of the day and most of the night aggressively _not thinking_ about anything. When he falls asleep on the couch, he dreams of Deadpool slitting throats.

He wakes up crying and calls Johnny, who is there in a few minutes (perks of having a friend who can fly).

"I have to tell you something you might hate me for." Peter says from the cocoon of blankets the blond put him in. He continues when he only gets a confused look in response. "I told you about the people who were after me and about my neighbor, and then I told you that I took care of it." Johnny nods. "And you didn't question it because you trust me, but Johnny...I hired him." Peter swallows. "I-"

It never fully hit him what he took part in before the shock on Johnny's face. "Holy shit, Peter."

"I just-"

"This is like. This is against everything you stand for." Johnny shakes his head, "You're always going on about how everyone deserves to live!"

"I _know_." Peter groans. "I just-I didn't know what else to do."

"Pete."

"And I'm already a killer. I mean, it's my fault Gwen is dead. And my parents. And Ben. So why does it even matter?" he pulls the blankets tighter around himself. "I fucked up. I don't know what to do."

Johnny's expression softens. "You're not a killer." he says, and pushes Peter's hair out of his face. "Look, they killed your neighbor. Who knows what they had planned for you, but it wasn't good."

"Still."

"At the end of the day, would it have mattered if you went to the police and there was a shootout?" Johnny asks. "He's...he's not always wrong."

 

Peter's phone chimes just as sunlight is starting to creep into his bedroom. He doesn't look. No amount of assurances from Johnny could ever help him move on faster. He has blood on his hands, but then, he already did.

What if he hadn't sought out help? Whose lives would it have cost? What if he had gone to the police? Would it have ended in more death than it did? He feels bad for what happened, but he could (and probably would) feel the exact same way, if not worse, if everything had gone a different direction.

He finally looks at his phone when it chimes again.

"I'm done now, sorry it took so long. But hey, tell our good pal Spidey that I left everyone kickin (why it took so fuckin long)"  
"You're probably asleep. Hope you have a good day honey. Sleep tight <3"

Peter drifts off to sleep after that, feeling slightly better and a bit fuzzy because of the nickname and the heart.


	17. Easy To Read

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mention/implication of childhood sexual abuse (reference to Skip Westcott) at the end of the chapter. Shoutout to fliaway again for the help on this chapter <3 truly a saint.

"Pete, you have to let us win at least _once_." Johnny whines. "You've placed first _every time_."

"This was your idea." Peter says. "Get better." Johnny sighs heavily and lets out a long whine that makes Wade laugh. For the past hour, the blond has placed behind Peter and Wade in every single MarioKart race.

Johnny sighs again and sets his controller down in favor of the Chinese takeout they'd ordered. "The advantage of being a loser: I'm free to eat whenever I want."

"How long have you two known each other?" Wade asks after the race ends (with Peter in first and Wade in second, again).

"Since freshman year of college, really." Johnny replies. "I think I had seem him a few times before, in comic shops or something, but in college we had a couple of classes together. We didn't really start getting to know each other until after, _well_ -"

"Johnny, _no_." Peter warns, "Stop telling that story to _everyone_."

" _Story?_

" Wade turns on the couch until he's cross-legged facing the others. "Do tell."

"A massive kegger that I wouldn't even remember if not for this sobering experience." Johnny continues, "The most _adorable_ brunet drags me upstairs, pushes me down on a bed, says 'I hate you', and pukes on my shoes while his hands are down my pants."

"Wow." Wade says. "I was, uh. Not expecting _that_."

"Don't be jealous, man. Really." Johnny laughs, "After he apologized, we became friends and instead of using _my_ stunning face to make his career, he uses Spider-Man's."

Peter stands and walks stiffly to the bathroom because he feels like he's suffocating. He doesn't feel like explaining it to them. If he does to Johnny, then, well. Johnny might feel too bad to hang out with him anymore and that's the _last thing_ he needs. That either of them need, really.

He can still hear them through the door.

"He seemed upset." Wade says.

"Nah, he's fine." Johnny sounds sure of this even though he's kind of wrong, "Just embarrassed. He'll be okay."

"Um." Wade doesn't sound convinced. [Hm.]

"Now I can give you some friendly advice." Johnny says. "On how to do right by Peter. He has three basic needs in a relationship: warmth, food, and humor. You can provide all of that. You can make him happy."

"I don't-I don't know. I mean, I'm not exactly... Well, I'm _damaged goods_." Wade says. "Those things might make him happy, but they're not all I'm bringing to the table."

"All that other stuff is just baggage. It's not like he doesn't have any."

"Why are you even telling me this?" Wade sounds like he's on the cusp of laughing. Or crying. Or both.

"Because I'm your friend, and I'm his friend. And you two like each other." Johnny says, and Peter can _hear_ the smile in his voice. "And I ship it. Like, really, _really_ I do. You have _no idea_ , man."

 

Peter thumps Johnny on the nose when he comes back through and spends the rest of the evening stuffing his face with food.

 

After Johnny goes home, Wade helps Peter clean up (popcorn on the floor, soda cans, etc.) [I guess I shouldn't be surprised.] Peter thinks, [They're both kind of messy.]

"Okay, you've been staring at me for like a solid fifteen minutes, _what is it?_ " Peter asks and Wade jumps like he hadn't known he was staring.

"I...I have a question that I can't figure out how to ask." he says. "You seemed really upset by the story Johnny told."

"Was there a question in there?" Peter picks at a leftover box of orange chicken.

Wade sighs, frustrated. "I just-look. Come're." he takes the box out of the brunet's hands and sets it aside so he can thread their fingers together. "There's a look about you that I just _recognize_ , okay? You try to make yourself small so no one'll, so no one'll notice you, and... And I-"

"Wait, are you- Whoa, okay- I-I mean, he was drunk too. Probably more so than I was." Peter says, pulling his hands away. The air around him is too thick again. [Because someone noticed.] "Am I that easy to read?"

"No, it's just what I do." Wade flexes his fingers, unsure of what to do with his hands now. "You don't have to say anything."

Peter shakes his head, trying to clear the fog. The look of utter devastation in Wade's eyes draws him back and he laughs, "Oh, god no. _Johnny?_ He's one of the nicest people I know, and he's probably the best friend I have. He's never done anything but annoy me endlessly."

So..." Wade looks slightly less burdened, but still like he's in pain. "What is it, then?"

"He just-he looks like...someone. It's not his fault, I just-I don't know. It's stupid." Peter rubs the back of his neck.

"It's not." Wade says quickly, almost before Peter gets the word out. "It's a lot of things. It's fucked up. But I promise you, it's not stupid."


	18. Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a _big one_ something huge happens. Are ya ready?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (you're not ready)

Occasionally, when the Baxter building is just _too_ quiet and empty, Johnny lets himself into Peter's apartment and makes him breakfast.

" _So_ , did the two of you have fun last night after I left?" Johnny asks, a sly smile on his face. "I hope I don't need to give you a lecture on safe sex."

Peter sighs. "Nothing happened." he says, "It's slow going, which I think is good."

"All jokes aside, yeah." Johnny nods, "You've both been hurt before and need time to trust."

"I'm lying about something pretty serious." Peter says, holding his head in his hands. "I don't even know why."

"I do." the blond pats Peter's shoulder and sets a plate of eggs and bacon down in front of him. "You're worried. You're always trying to enforce a good example for him as Spider-Man. What happens when Spider-Man hires you to do something that he's been adamantly telling you _not_ to do for years?"

"I guess. I mean, what if next time I ask him to stop, he _doesn't_? What if one maybe bad decision leads to a _lifetime_ of bloodshed?" Peter rubs his hands into his face and makes a frustrated noise. "What if I can't-"

"This is where you're going wrong: he doesn't need a babysitter." Johnny says. "He can think for himself, Pete. He doesn't need a handler. He's been doing good things since before you were Spider-Man and he _can_ be that person again. What he needs are _friends_ who believe that. He needs someone to be louder than everything telling him he's a monster."

"I-I just..."

"And if you don't let go of the savior complex, then there's always going to be a power imbalance." Johnny moves Peter's hands away and forces eye contact. "Let it go and _tell_ _him_ before you do something you can't change."  
  


  
It's not that Peter didn't take what Johnny said to heart. It's not that he doesn't know that Johnny is right. It's just that it's _so hard_ to put it into action.

It has always been the smaller scale crimes that pit them against each other the most. Peter helped put people away for petty theft for years (he admits, partially due to his personal vendetta), but Wade opened his eyes the first time they came across it on a team-up. When people steal, it's usually because they don't have a choice. They need something they can't get or they've fallen into the trap of never having enough. Always a bill to pay, an addiction to feed, an actual mouth to feed. They need help. They need a _chance_.

But then there's Wade and crimes against the vulnerable. Peter actually thought he might die the first time he pulled Wade off a sex offender who had been stalking someone (not that he thinks it was okay, hat the guy was doing, because he doesn't) and told him that it wasn't his job to get these people off the street. That it was the police's job. And Spider-Man was helping the police.

It spawned pretty much the same argument that they're having tonight.  
  


  
"Do you know what the justice system does with people like that?" Deadpool growls, "Absolutely fucking nothing. He'll be out in a year, tops, and we'll be having this _exact same_ _fight_ again."

"And we still won't agree." Spider-Man argues. "You don't have the right to kill him and everyone has the right to live."

"How can you say that? How can you-just- how don't you _get_ this?" he stammers. "What if, next time, we don't get here fast enough? That's gonna be on your hands. Is it really better than _one death_ now? When it's someone who deserves it instead of someone innocent who has to live the rest of their lives traumatized and fucked up?"

"I-I'm not- I don't _approve_ of it, I just-"

"It _sounds_ like you do." Wade spits, "It's not like you'd even have to do it. That's what I'm here for."

"And what if they _don't_ do it again? What if it really is the last time?" Peter asks.

"There's _never_ a last time! It's not a second chance if you don't change!" Wade shouts, "It's not a second chance if you _never_ change!"

"You're _right_ , it's not." Peter smacks the empty holster on Wade's right hip. The handgun itself is somewhere twenty to thirty feet down the alley where Peter flung it. "It's _not_."

" _Fuck you_." Wade snarls. He stalks down the alley to get his gun with the clear intention to leave.

Peter feels awful immediately. Because it's not fair. Not when, in a lot of ways, Wade is right about this. "Wait." the brunet calls, but the merc flips him off and continues onwards after locating his weapon.  
  


  
The next day, Peter has to pretend he wasn't a part of that argument, and he feels _worse_. It feels wrong, it feels manipulative. And Wade is clearly upset.

"I don't understand." Wade says, pacing. "I just don't get what makes him think that way."

"Wade-" [ _Tell him_ , explain it.] Peter thinks, [Tell him you're still trying to find a reason, that you can't accept the possibility that there isn't one.]

"I know he doesn't support evil like that." Wade has been getting more and more distressed since Peter arrived. "So-so-"

"He-" Peter is interrupted by a frustrated groan. He gets up from Wade's couch to wrap his arms around the merc. "I don't know, but I can promise you that he didn't mean that last part."

"How d'you know that?" Wade melts into Peter's embrace. "He's so hot and cold that I really can't tell, especially recently."

"I _promise_." Peter repeats.

"Pinky swear?" Wade asks.

"When I get done hugging you, sure." Maybe it started as just a hug because Wade needed it, but now, with Wade's arms securely around his waist, Peter thinks if this never ended, he'd be okay with it. More than okay. He's never felt so real and cherished. He tightens his grip, an arm over the shoulder and the other around the merc's back. He feels and hears Wade relax, a warm sigh on his neck. It makes him pull back, not because he's uncomfortable, because there are so many unasked questions.

Wade's eyes are deep and Peter knows better than to look if he's not ready to get lost, but he does it anyway. There's something there under the fear and ever-present hurt that Peter can't place. Wade's gaze flickers down to his lips and Peter's breath catches in his throat. His fingers dig into the fabric of Wade's shirt when the merc leans in close enough that Peter can feel breath ghosting over his cheek. His heart hammers in his chest.

But Wade huffs a laugh and moves away, unwinding his arms from around Peter and, _no_ , that just won't do. Peter cups Wade's face in his hands and stands on tiptoes to press his lips against the merc's.

There's a moment of shock and stillness before Wade reacts, clinging to Peter's shirt and leaning down until the brunet's feet are flat on the floor again. The kiss is gentle, just a slide of rough and soft, neither knowing how far they can or should go.

Wade's eyes are bright when he pulls back again; shining, _sparkling_. Peter opens his mouth to protest, but the merc cuts him off with a hand on his cheek, thumb to his lips. "Shhh...Just- let me remember this before you change your mind."

Peter takes Wade's hands and places them on his hips where they _belong_ , in his opinion, and leans up to kiss Wade again. He's not as tender this time, nipping at the merc's bottom lip and earning a gasp before he slips his tongue into Wade's mouth. He kisses deep and roughly until there's a hand in his hair, gripping and pulling just enough, and Wade moans softly.

"I want you." he mumbles, still close enough for his lips to brush against Wade's as he speaks. He hears Wade laugh. [ _Spider-Man_.] Peter thinks, [I have to tell him. _Now_. Anytime later than now _will_ be too late.]

"Who am I to deny such a sweet request?" Wade whispers as he kisses along Peter's jaw.

[ _I'm Spider-Man_.] "Mn...Wade-" the brunet slurs, his eyes fluttering closed when the merc sucks at his pulse.

"Yeah, keep moanin' my name like that, baby." Wade's voice is deeper than usual and thick with arousal. He hooks his fingers in the belt loops on Peter's jeans and tugs him closer.

"I need to-" he moans when Wade bites the bruise he made, his hips jerk at the possessive growl he gets in response. " _tell_ you something..."

"Mmm...sounds bad." Wade hums, cupping Peter's ass and squeezing. "Don't wanna know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhahaaa have fun with this cliff hanger i'm so sorry (i'm not actually that sorry). I've dubbed the line separating this chapter and the next in my notebook "the asshole line".


	19. Chances 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning this chapter is NSFW

" _Wade_." Peter gasps, rolling his hips in Wade's grasp and the merc groans against his neck. "Fuck, just-just _wait_ a sec, please." he paws weakly at Wade's shoulders because he really, _really_ doesn't want to stop or wait at all, for _any_ amount of time. _Ever_.

Wade moves his hands up to Peter's face and gives him the most somber expression. "It's okay." he says, like he already knows what Peter is trying to tell him. "You don't have to do this."

Peter has the sudden urge to hunt down and punch every last person who ever made Wade feel this worthless. " _No_ -" Peter says, and he hates how angry he sounds and how it makes the merc flinch. "I just-"

"A+ for effort, though." Wade babbles, "You were really believable."

" _Ohmygod_." Peter sighs and kisses Wade again, short but rough. "Shut up-"

"See, now you're just playing with my emotions." the merc quirks a smile like he's not in pain.

" _I'm Spider-Man_."

"You-what?" Wade pulls away, out of Peter's arms, and that's no good, really. "But..." he falters.

"I know. I'm so sorry. I should've- I'm _sorry_." Peter says, "Please don't hate me."

"I told you I had feelings for Sp- for you -the first night we met. " Wade mumbles, more to himself than to Peter. " _Fuck_." he grabs the mask and pulls it over his head.

Peter hates it. He hates that mask and everything it represents. "This doesn't change anything that's happened between us-"

"It changes _some_ things." Wade says, he looks so lost and hurt and Peter hates himself.

"Yeah. _Yeah_ , okay- but not-not what just happened." Peter wishes he knew the magic words to make this better. "That _still_ happened. I still kissed you. I still _wanted_ to. I-I still..." He pushes Wade's mask up, gets it to his nose before the merc grabs his wrists and stops him.

"But Spidey _doesn't_ like me." Wade says, and Peter adds himself to the top of that list of people he needs to punch in the face. "Spidey _never_ liked me."

"I didn't even _know_ you. I never took the time to try and I was _wrong_." Peter says, "I do like you. And I-I say things I don't mean when I'm mad. I feel so awful about what I said-"

He's inerrupted by Wade kissing him, desperate, more teeth and tongue than anything. He melts, pushing the merc's shirt up. Wade's breath hitches when Peter trails fingers gently up his stomach and flattens his palms against the scarred chest, feeling the racing heartbeat underneath.

Peter drags his nails lightly down Wade's belly and dips his fingertips under the waistband of the merc's jeans. "Is this okay?" he asks gently when Wade breaks the kiss, panting. "Don't like just to please me."

Wade huffs a laugh and grabs Peter's hands. He presses a kiss to each palm before putting them on his shoulders and backs Peter against a wall. "You're too good for me." he says, running his fingers through brunet tresses.

"I had more opportunities to be good." Peter says.

Wade grabs his hips and lifts him up. Peter wraps his legs around the merc's waist. "I could get used to _this_." he sucks another bruised mark onto Peter's neck, laughing when the brunet whines impatiently and pulls him closer with the legs around him. "Guess Spidey isn't such a prude after all."

"Next time, I'm gonna show you just how much I'm _not_ a prude."

"Maybe wait on sayin' next time until you've actually seen me naked." Wade mumbles into his neck.

" _No_." Peter says, and pulls Wade to face him. "As long as you want it, there _will_ be a next time. I promise."

"Makin' lots of promises tonight, baby..."

"Just kiss me." Peter says, eyes heavy lidded and face flushed. " _Please_."

Wade obliges, crashing their lips together and moving his hands over Peter's body. "Speakin' of naked." he breathes, and bites Peter's bottom lip. "S'what you need to be for like, the next _week_ or two or..."

The merc slips his hands under Peter's shirt and the brunet gasps, "Don't you _ever_ stop touching me." his voice shakes and he can feel Wade's nails dragging across his hip bones. " _Wade_..." he moans, remembering what the merc said before.

Peter braces himself against the wall with one hand so he can make enough space between them to get his hand to the sipper on Wade's jeans. He fumbles for a few seconds before the merc helps him, panting "Please, _please_." in his ear.

"You want me." Peter says breathlessly and Wade nods. [I can't believe it.] Peter thinks, [He's _speechless_.]

Peter is palming Wade through his underwear when he hears his phone ringing. " _Baby_ _boy_ ," Wade whines, "Please tell me you don't have to answer that."

Wade rocks his hips and Peter groans. "It's my boss' ringtone..."

" _Fuck_." Wade sighs and unwinds Peter's legs from his hips. "I hate him. I fucking _hate_ him."

 

  
"Hey." Peter says, and presses a gentle kiss to Wade's lips. "I still really want to do this, okay?"

Wade nods, but there's a stiffness to his posture. He's sure that Peter will change his mind. The idea of anything else happening doesn't even occur to him. "Sure."

"Give me this." the brunet huffs, tugging at the front of Wade's hoodie. "I'm taking it with me."

"Why?" the merc asks, even as he slips his arms out. "It's not that cold out."

"In case you trick yourself into thinking I don't want you while I'm gone, now you have to let me in when I come back." Peter says, grinning as he puts it on. The sleeves droop down over his hands and everyone is going to know this isn't his right away. [Good.] "Pinky swears aren't official unless you actually do the thing." he links their pinky fingers together.

" _Sap_." Wade says, a hint of a smile on his lips, and rolls his eyes. [He still doesn't believe me.] "Go on, before you get in trouble." [I can convince him.]


	20. I'm Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Past here thar be smut

Peter calls Wade when he gets home that afternoon. "I hate my job."

Wade laughs. "Sweetie, you must be exhausted."

"No." Peter lies, but his body betrays him and he yawns. "C'mover anyway. _Spoon me_."

"Are you gonna be able to get out of bed and let me in?" Wade asks. "You sound like you're about to fall asleep."

"Window's unlocked." Peter mumbles. "Still wearing it." he pulls the hoodie tighter around himself, letting it flop over his hands.

 

  
"Sorry I fell asleep." Peter yawns when he wakes up in Wade's arms. [I could get used to this.]

Wade's chuckle is a rumble in his chest, "Don't be sorry. You're so adorable, I cried like six times."

"You came over." He says, sitting up and stretching. He grins at Wade, who has the most painfully fond expression.

"Come here." Wade breathes and tugs Peter back into his arms. "Am I dreaming?" he pushes stray hair out of Peter's face.

"Wouldn't I be naked if you were?" Peter asks, and Wade laughs, pressing their foreheads together. "Though if you wanna make that dream come true, I'm game. Maybe after I brush my teeth."

"Dilemma: I don't want you to get out of bed." Wade hums.

"Well, I can think of a few things I'd have to brush after anyway." He presses a kiss against Wade's adam's apple and feels it bob. "If you want?"

"Whatever you want, baby. I'm yours." Wade gives Peter a sleepy grin. [I'd tell him how gorgeous he is right now, but I don't want to ruin the moment.]

"You got to grab Spider-Man's ass yesterday." Peter says, trailing his fingers up and down Wade's stomach, pushing his shirt up inch by inch on every pass. "Thoughts?"

Wade smirks. "Every bit as good as I imagined-no, _better_." he gets a dreamy look in his eyes. "Firm and smack-able. I'd love to- _ah_..." Peter gets his pants undone while he's talking and gently palms Wade's half-hard cock, feeling it stiffen more under his touch. " _Tease_." Wade scolds. "As I was saying. I wanna _worship_ that ass, baby boy."

"Mhm, and I haven't even ridden you yet." he says bluntly, enjoying the way Wade's eyes darken with arousal at his words. "I _said_ I wasn't a prude."

"Peter..." Wade gasps when Peter wraps his fingers properly around his cock and jerks him off, loose and quick.

"I really like this hoodie." Peter murmurs, leaning up to kiss the merc's neck. "Want you to fuck me while I'm wearing it and nothing else."

Wade moans and his cock twitches in Peter's hand. His hips bick when Peter quickens his pace. "You-you're _killing_ me, Petey-pie."

Peter smirks. "Bet you've thought of me while you touch yourself. I've thought of you." he punctuates with a twist of his wrist that Wade arches into. "Ever think about me sucking you off?" Wade nods a bit frantically, panting as Peter kisses down his stomach. "How good my mouth would feel." he slides his tongue through the precum leaking from Wade's dick. He stops stroking, just squeezing lightly at the base and mouthing over the head. "You taste fucking amazing."

" _Oh god_." Wade whines. "Oh- _please_. Please, just-just fucking _suck me_ already, I can't-" his babbling is cut off by a shaky moan when Peter bobs down on his cock. "Oh- _oooh_ ~" Wade's hands slide into Peter's hair and the brunet hums, moving faster. "You're perfect. F-fuck."

Peter pulls off with a soft pop and grins at the way Wade arches his back and whines at the loss of sensation. "Look at you. I love how sensitive you are." he licks a hot stripe up the merc's throbbing cock. " _Gorgeous_."

"Y-you're fucked up." Wade stutters. "Kinky little- _ah, fuck_..." Peter strokes what his throat can't take, pumping the merc's cock roughly. Wade's grip in his hair tightens and he groans, "Oh _fuck_ , baby boy, I'm s-so close."

Peter hums around him and relaxes his throat, letting Wade's hip buck freely when he comes with a choked cry. He kisses lightly up Wade's stomach, gets to his neck before the merc pulls him into a sloppy kiss. He giggles as Wade's hands fumble trying to get his pants off. "Need some help?"

"No." the merc mumbles. He bites Peter's lip when he gets the jeans down off his hips. "Do you have any idea how hot you are?" Wade breathes, grabbing the brunet's ass and squeezing, digging his fingers into the flesh.

"So you've said." Peter gasps. " _Please_." he whines, arching his back and rocking his hips in Wade's hands. "Feels like I've been waiting _forever_ for this, please touch me."

"Impatient, aren't you?" he gives that delectable ass one last squeeze and slides his hands down Peter's thighs and back up to his hips, pulling him until the brunet is straddling his waist.

"Yeah, well." Peter says, breathless. His head lolls back and he moans when Wade fists his cock and moves his thumb in tiny circles on the head. " _Wade_..."

"Payback's a bitch, huh?" he grins, picking up a rhythm he knows is just short of enough and stroking until Peter lets out a choked noise that sounds like ' _please_ '. "You wanna cum, baby?" he asks, and Peter nods eagerly. "Do it, cum for me." he jerks the brunet off in quick strokes and Peter's eyes roll back, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he spills over the merc's stomach with a long, broken moan.

 

  
After Wade cleans them both up, Peter dozes off again with their legs tangled together. He can't remember the last time he was this content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic is givin me carpal tunnel i'm sufferinG


	21. Dream Come True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it folks. It's been a wild ride and you've all been so sweet in the comments but it's time for this fic to come to an end (my fingers need a rest like damn). I do have a new fic in the works rn but I don't know when I'll start it (soon, I hope, because I really enjoyed myself).
> 
> Also, the NO ending is going up too, separately. Because I couldn't write something so fucking awful and then _not_ show it to anyone.

They get into one of those situations again, the ones that always start huge fights. Peter expects it to. He expects Wade to yell at him when he disarms him. He expects Wade to yell at him as they watch from a safe distance as the police take the guy in. He expects Wade to yell at him when they're taking a break on a roof. It doesn't happen.

"Okay, what's the deal?" Peter asks. "Are you just going to give up your morals to me because your dick was in my mouth once, or?"

"What?" Wade sounds confused. "What are you talking about?"

"That kind of crime _always_ starts a fight." Peter says. "There's no fight. What's the deal?"

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_." Peter huffs. "Look, even if your morals differ from mine, I want you to stick to them. To believe in something-well, besides the _killing_ , but-"

"I get it now." Wade says quietly. "You're just tryin' to make it make sense. Because you can't see that it's _them_. That they're the fucked up ones. You think it was _you_."

"I-" Peter falters. [He's not entirely wrong, I guess.]

"You'll let it go, eventually." Wade continues. "Might not seem like it, but you'll be okay. Until then, I guess I can stop making you feel like there's something wrong with you for thinking the way you do. 'Cause there's not. You lived through an awful thing and look at you. You just want to help everyone all the time. And even when you _don't_ want to, you do it anyway."

"I've been selfish." Peter argues, though he's not sure why.

" _Everyone_ is selfish, but I know what you're thinkin'. I talked to Flamebrain." Wade says. "Look, so you hired a mercenary. Some people died. It's not like I didn't look into what they had planned. If there had been another way, I would've taken it instead, just to keep Spidey off my back."

"Oh." Peter sighs, "And why didn't you ask me to prove who I am?"

"It's _obvious_ , lookin' back." Wade laughs. "And Yellow was _all over it_ from the moment we met. I just-I was in denial for a lot of reasons, I guess. Like, Spider-Man wouldn't hire _me_ , even if he did need a mercenary. And Spider-Man wouldn't include _me_ in his life. And Spider-Man wouldn't like _me_ , ever, full stop. But I...I was wrong."

"I'm so sorry I lied to you."

" _Pete_." Wade puts his arm over the brunet's shoulders. "No pity."

"We're not at your place." Peter says. "We're out in the city, so this is _my_ home. All the pity."

Wade laughs, "Okay, all of it. I forgive you." He kisses Peter's forehead. Even with both their masks on, the intent is clear and Peter blushes. "Is it weird if I break into your apartment to cook?" he asks. "I'm not really feelin' this tonight."

" _Of course_ you can cook for me." Peter says, shocked that the merc would even ask. "I'm always starving when I get home."

Wade slides down a drain pipe on the building and Peter makes a spur of the moment decision to drop next to him, hanging upside down. "Are you-" Wade starts.

"I thought you might appreciate it." He grins when Wade tugs their masks halfway off.

" _Spider kiss_!" Wade says excitedly, and presses his lips against Peter's. "This is a dream come true."

To Peter's surprise, Wade keeps the kiss short and sweet. "I love you." he blurts out when Wade pulls back. " _Fuck_ -um. Was that- I-I mean, not that I _don't_ , I just didn't mean to jump you with it like that, I-"

Wade grins widely and kisses him again, deeper this time. "I love you too, baby boy." he says and Peter's heart pounds. "Now go fight crime, you _giant sap_."


End file.
